Buddies For Life (Blitzstone)
by Queenie Mab
Summary: Hearthstone catches Magnus and TJ speculating about him and Blitzen and the thoughts of what Blitzen and he would be like as a couple drive him to distraction - even in his sleep.
1. Chapter 1

Hearthstone

I blink my eyes awake under the sunlamp, not quite rested, but too hot to stay asleep. It must be midday by now, and I'm not sure why I decided to use the lamp when I could have fallen asleep in front of the window. My brain buzzes, turning random thoughts over and over in my head. I'm not comfortable and it takes me a while to figure out why.

Blitz and I had spent the previous night moving his things from Nidavellir to the shop on Newbury, though rune magic made it relatively easy. I'd learned a lot in Asgard from Odin. One lesson enabled me to open a temporary door between Blitz's old apartment to the new shop. It was only a matter of carrying boxes through the space Blitz intended to use for a dressing room.

Magnus and his friend TJ helped for the first few hours until Blitz insisted we would be fine for the rest. I had accidentally witnessed them having a conversation during a break while Blitz was busy organizing boxes according to function. I didn't want to interrupt their conversation, but I also didn't stop watching because they were talking about Blitz and me.

TJ pointed out to Magnus that my face brightens whenever I see Blitz. He also said Blitz grins a lot and acts more touchy-feely when I'm around than other times. I guess Magnus had brought his friend around to hang out with Blitz a lot while I was in Asgard. I'm not sure. But then TJ said it was only a matter of time - if it hadn't happened already - that Blitz and I would be dating. At first, Magnus brushed him off as being ridiculous, but after TJ explained himself, I noticed that Magnus was paying closer attention when Blitz and I were together. I think it's because I knew what he was doing that made me stumble more than usual, and even I couldn't help notice that Blitz was there every single time to catch me, and ask if I was okay. I began to wonder if there might be something to what TJ had said. Luckily, Blitz shooed them off around then. He was probably feeling the same weird, secretive vibes that I got from them. They're nice guys, but, yeah, a bit annoying at times.

I had never really thought about it before, my attraction to Blitz. I always knew it was there, that is true, but I'd never thought about doing something about it. I've spent nearly every day of the past four years with Blitz, or at least touching base with him so we knew where to find each other again. I _have_ noticed his body; I'm deaf, not blind. It's just, I've been so unhappy for so long, even after meeting Blitz, that didn't change. It's a physical thing, depression, being an empty cup. The concept of pleasure is plain foreign then. It's hard enough to stay present and go through the day to day actions of mere functioning.

Many times since Blitz saved my life, we've ended up in the same bed together, but it was never sexual. I had nightmares; Blitz would comfort me until I fell asleep again. We talked about it a few times; that's when we learned about each other's pasts. We had a sort of unspoken agreement to not be embarrassed with each other about our pasts. It was nice to comfort each other like brothers would.

Now, for the first time in my life, I am truly happy. I feel connected and wanted. I've found the family I always wanted, the one I've always needed, and it's kind of nice. So what's the big deal?

My body. Apparently along with not feeling depressed, my body feels alive for the first time in my life and along with that, I seem to have a newly awakened sex drive. It's crazy-making.

I breathe in and out, trembling, my fingers curling. My dick throbs in my pants as I resist touching it, but I want to. The only thing stopping me is that Blitz is in the next room, but that doesn't stop me thinking about what it would be like – how embarrassing, how hot – if he came out and saw me jerking off under the sun lamp.

I'm almost too hot now. I'm not sure if the lamp is growing hotter or if it's just me burning up more than ever. My face might melt off. The scene plays out in my mind: my hand slipping up and down my erection, my hips bucking forward on their own accord as I chase my orgasm and Blitz watching. I imagine him standing stock-still, his eyes wide, unable to look away. Would I stop when I noticed him watching? I don't think I would. I'd probably be so close at that point that stopping would be impossible. I'd probably meet his eyes, and that sight – knowing he's watching me would send me over the final edge. I'd come over my fist, spilling onto my stomach, and wishing my hand was his.

It happens.

I don't even touch myself. The idea alone is enough to make me come, my mouth dropping open, my chest vibrating as I come inside my pants. Relief floods my system, charging my brain, filling every cell in my body with what feels like magic.

I smile drunkenly, too dazed to care, too high to freak out until Blitz's face, twisted with concern, hovers above me. I catch the tail-end of his lips moving: "… heard you moaning, buddy. Was it a bad dream?"

Oh gods. There are so many ways this conversation could play out. I sign _yes_ , and follow him to his bed, the possibilities guiding my steps. First thing, I think, I'll insist on taking a shower.


	2. Chapter 2

Blitzen

I crawl back into bed, switching the headboard nightlight on, not quite sure what's going on in Hearthstone's mind.

I'd awakened when I heard him rustling around in the front room. He'd even been vocalizing a little, small whimpers and moans, typical ones like when he has a nightmare. But when I had gone to check on him, he wasn't crying - he was smiling. Instead of clinging to me the instant he noticed I was there, his eyes were unfocused rather than his typical post-nightmare alertness, like when he overuses magic or the few times I've seen him drunk.

He had signed 'yes' when I'd asked about nightmares … but instead of following me to bed to talk about it or even to just not be alone, he'd insisted on taking a shower. Said the sun lamp runs hotter here than it does in Svartalfheim.

I wrestle my blankets back into position to the humming accompaniment of the water pipes inside the wall. I fluff my pillows and turn down the corner of the blanket on Hearthstone's side before settling back and getting cozy.

I yawn, my eyelids heavy, my mind drifting to that in between place that isn't quite awake or asleep. It's the place where you can revisit times past, turning events over in your mind and working them out … like a mental scrapbook.

The nightlight sends shadows dancing across the opposite wall, inspiring the same mood, the same aesthetic as the day Hearthstone had literally dropped into my world and my life.

It happened just after mossglow, four and some years ago. Shortly after my father's death had been confirmed, I'd spent a couple of weeks in Folkvanger. I'd needed to get away from Junior's boasting, from the despair of losing my fractured hope that the security I'd grown up with would ever come back. I don't know why I'd thought my mother could make it any better. Instead, I got wrapped up in the arms of distraction, a happy-go-lucky member of the people's army, a guy named Miles. The downside of extended basking in Folkvanger light – the light of love given freely – is how little that love is worth, how greatly the residents take it for granted.

I'd dropped out of Yggdrasil's branches into the alley beside Svartalf Mart, and a second later, was knocked on my face by a body falling on top of me. Hearthstone had been unconscious. At first, I'd thought he was dead, but after wriggling out from under him, I could see his pulse beating in his temple. It took me several minutes to get my bearings; the impact had broken my nose and I've never been good with pain. When I realized the greenish tint covering his face was actually his veins, that he was likely from Alfheim and would die if he didn't get some sun, the pain vanished. My despair tucked its tail and hid while I went into autopilot.

I'm not a natural maker when it comes to anything other than fashion. I can't create things that don't interest me, and I'm even worse under stress. But then, when I didn't even know who he was, I was able to design and build Hearthstone an alternate energy source.

Maybe I'd experienced too much loss already, had grieved enough and suffered even more in the realm of my mother's fallen warriors, that I couldn't stand the idea of any more death. It could also be that by saving a stranger's life, I'd found some power within myself, tapped a reserve of inspiration I'd never been able to reach before. When you have lost everything, the opportunity to prevent the same from happening to another person pays forward two-fold: another chance to the receiver and a sense of purpose to the gifter. Whatever the case may be, saving Hearthstone rerouted the course of my life. After he taught me to sign and became my friend, and though we were still never quite at home in any of the nine worlds, we weren't alone anymore. We were outcasts together.

The adventures, the annoyances, the challenges of that first year flit through my mind like watching a video on fast forward. Glimpses of memories – tender smiles, tear-streaked faces, friendly pokes and prods – fill me up with warmth as I sink deeper into my mattress. I can't see anything, can't move my arms and legs as sleep paralysis claims my limbs, but I'm not asleep quite yet.

The mattress dips beside me, the fondness in my heart increasing as my brain processes that Hearthstone has crawled into bed.

Sleep pulls at the edges of my thoughts and I succumb to it as the wave of longing I have to keep stifled crashes over me and drags my consciousness with it into blissful unawareness.

XxxX

Getting to know Hearthstone, his past, his dreams, his fears has been the most precious experience of my life. Is it really so surprising that I'd fall in love with him?

It happened without my permission, without my notice even. Romance hadn't even been on my radar. It was near the end of our first year together, we'd gone to Jotunheim to seek Mimir's advice and, neither of us having anything to lose, had chosen to drink his well water.

Signing ourselves into servitude at the same time, drinking from the well of knowlege, there wasn't room for keeping secrets from Mimir or each other. Fortunately, the knowledge of what I needed to do to reach my goals coincided with the answer Hearthstone sought: how he could master rune magic. The enormity of the answers overshadowed my realization that I was in love with my compatriot. At first, I hadn't caught any hints that Hearthstone knew about it or that he reciprocated my feelings, so I kept it to myself. It wasn't until we'd traveled to Midgard for the first time that the longing became clear.

Hearth had been the first to jump from Yggdrasil's branch to the platform at Arlington Station. I followed and would have plunged headfirst onto the rails had he not grabbed my arm and pulled me back. My heart had thudded harder against my ribs than ever before, not from the near miss as much as the chemistry between us – our chests pressed together, Hearth's back against a brick pillar, his knees weak, holding me against him as though he'd nearly lost something precious. Our eyes met. I saw sparks, and then his lips. The distance between our faces narrowed as a thrill shot through my nerves. It was magnetism. Until Hearth's eyes darkened, a shadow falling across his face and he'd shaken his head. He loosened his grip, though he didn't release me until he was sure I could stand on my own. He'd signed: _Not here. I can't._

The rejection stung, but I was certain Hearthstone had felt the same pull. I'd nursed my bruised heart with that balm as we studied the station map. We had a job to do and I was aware that Hearth's heart was far from uninjured.

Later, after we'd cobbled together our homeless disguises and monitored the intersection where the son of Frey would eventually turn up, he explained himself.

 _I have to be an empty cup to catch the magic. If happy feelings are in there, it won't work. Please understand, Blitzen, I do feel. I can't love. I can only be a friend._

I understood.

I'd tried to understand.

I tried to stop myself from falling even deeper.

I failed.

But Hearthstone never let on that he knew that. He remained my steadfast friend and openly, friendship was all I allowed myself to show. I refer to him as my 'buddy' because it works to remind me that 'buddies' is all we can be. One doesn't lust after one's 'buddy' after all. Seriously, the word sounds so stupid, it kills the mood all on its own. Thank the gods, Hearthstone doesn't hear how stupid it sounds when I use it.

XxxX

A tickling sensation.

I reach down to scratch my side, my eyes squeezed tightly shut as I try to hold onto my dream. Something is irritating my skin. Maybe a bug got trapped under my covers?

A snort. A muffled laugh.

I wrinkle my nose. The idea of bugs under the covers has my whole body on high alert, my hair follicles tingling.

I groan as I rub my chest, chasing phantom itches only to have them crop up on my legs. Then the poking starts. A finger prod to my bicep, then one to my side, then back to my arm again, each digging a little bit harder.

The last vestiges of sleep slip from my grasp as I swat at Hearthstone with my free hand, staunchly refusing to open my eyes. My lips pulling up at the corners betray my attempt at feigning annoyance.

Finally, the poking stops, and just when I think I can breathe easy – yawn, open my eyes and tell him good morning – he starts tickling me.

"Hearthstone!" I manage to bellow, before dissolving into laughter and rolling onto my side in an attempt to protect my vulnerable belly.

It's no good. I am ticklish to the point of absurdity, a fact that is _not_ typical of most dwarves and ever since discovering it, a fact that Hearthstone will use to get his way.

Curled onto my side, my back to him, I realize the folly of my position, tears of laughter streaming down my face. He can't read my lips if I need to tell him to stop.

Still cracking up, I muster my strength and turn the tables on him. I twist, rolling toward him, but instead of stopping when I'm on my back, I flip over all the way, pinning Hearthstone's hips between my knees and catching his wrists with my hands.

He grins up at me, conceding defeat as I guide his wrists down and to the sides, pushing them into the mattress.

That smile though. His teeth gleaming in the low glow of the nightlight, pearlescent, even. His hair shines bright against the shadowy pillow and … looking more closely … he's not wearing a shirt. I can't stop staring at his chest. His tiny pink nipples, smooth hairless skin, lithe muscles rippling as he breathes, perfectly defined and looking so fine I want to trace them with my tongue.

I wet my lips, aching between my legs, so turned on I don't want to face reality. I don't want to move.

I don't want things to be weird.

I don't want to ruin our friendship.

I force myself to meet his eyes, dropping my smile. Ashamed, I try to quash my bitterness. He lifts an eyebrow and cocks his head. It isn't until he clicks his tongue that I realize I'm still pinning his wrists and he needs his hands to sign. I release them, sitting up.

 _You are sad?_ he signs, and then confuses me entirely, his eyelashes fluttering. His eyes remain focused as he exhales a shaky breath. If he wasn't my 'buddy' Hearth, I'd say he was aroused.

I shake my head. "No. I'm sorry. I lost control and …"

My breath deserts me as Hearthstone lifts his hips, his half-lidded eyes still smoldering, still fixed on mine. A very hard and prominent … He bumps his hips upwards again. I suspect my ability to rationalize had flown off along with my stolen breath. As I drag more oxygen into my lungs, I'm suddenly quite aware of a number of things. Hearthstone is not wearing any clothes at all. The thin sheet that had been covering him was pushed off when I straddled his hips. My boxer shorts are the only barrier between Hearth's dick and my butt. Hearthstone is not asking me to stop.

He signs as he bumps up against me again. Half-assed signs as if his brain has heated up to the point he can't waste the energy to steady his hands.

 _Blitz. Want you. Please teach me?_

Hearthstone, his skin smooth and pale, glows in the low light as if he was made of magic. I reach for his chest, my hand hovering a few inches from his skin, trembling. I'm afraid to touch him, to discover he is an illusion or that I'm still dreaming.

He settles his hands on my hips, his touch a solid weight, real, then rolls his hips again. Fire, need, electric pulses spark through my nerves. My heart races, my ears buzzing as he wets his lips, drawing my focus.

I go for it. Hel be damned. Even if I am only dreaming, I cannot resist the temptation of those lips. My hands on his shoulders, his skin cool to my heated palms, I lean in and stake my claim.

Plump. Moist. Delicious. Hearth's mouth tastes of mint, of nature, like drinking clear water from an ice-cold mountain stream. Torsos flush against each other, the pale plains of his skin a soft cushion to the hair on my chest. I roll my hips back as he moves his forward. The grind of aching need shared between us ramps up the urgency. I wrap my arms around Hearthstone's shoulders, drawing his tongue into my mouth, breathing hard and fast through my nose as his hands find my butt, squeezing, pulling us even closer together.

Kissing Hearthstone feels as natural as breathing. Lips softly brushing, opening in tandem, tongues darting in turn, sweeping over teeth, tickling the roofs of our mouths. I'm so wrapped up in the moment, my mind can't even form a coherent thought. Our kisses slow; our hips too, the pauses between kisses becoming more frequent.

I pull my face back a few inches and meet his gaze, his grey eyes sparkling in the low light, his lips turning up in a smirk as I trail the back of my fingers down the side of his face.

"Is this real?" I ask, my voice sounds rougher than I expect it to. I'm still reeling.

Hearthstone rolls his eyes and nods. I can't tear my eyes from his face. I've never seen him so _easygoing_ , so free. He makes his 'you're being an idiot' face, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes before smacking my butt.

I finally catch on. The way I'm lying on top of him, I've trapped his hands again.

"Oops. I'm moving," I chuckle, rolling off of him and onto my side while he pulls his hands free. I'm not ready to stop touching him and immediately tangle our legs, sideways straddling his hip, laughing at myself. I can't help it. It's like I'm so stuffed full of happiness, it's bubbling out as laughter without my permission.

 _You are a big dork._ Hearth signs, making my face hurt as I laugh even more, my smile stretching my mouth to the point my muscles cramp. And then, he turns onto his side and pushes my shoulder until I fall on my back. He crawls on top of me, slotting between my legs his knees drawn up under my butt.

I stop laughing, though my smile stays fixed.

"You act as though this surprises you."

Hearthstone finds one of my hands with his, turning them palm to palm and interlacing our fingers, then brings them up to the side of his face, gently nuzzling my wrist. He shrugs and presses a soft kiss to the back of my hand before guiding it between his legs.

I start with surprise at Hearth being so forward, but immediately curl my fingers around his velvety length. He shifts position, widening his hips and budging my legs apart so his knees fit tucked under my thighs before rolling his hips, his dick slipping through the tunnel I make with my fist.

I get it. He wants me to make him feel good; he wants to keep going. My biggest problem is that while I have more experience than Hearthstone does, it isn't much more.

Miles had been a mistake. I had gone to Folkvanger seeking comfort and he was the first guy whose offer of sex I actually accepted. I did what he wanted, let him call all the shots. He was gentle when I said I was a virgin, and we did it several times over the course of a week: outside, in his sleeping pallet, up against the wall of the shower. But the thing about the people in Folkvanger that my grieving heart forgot all about is that they don't take _anything_ seriously. They get bored easily. The sex wasn't great to begin with and we had nothing in common, but it was a connection when I had been floundering. I'd been reminded of the realities of my mother's realm when I walked in on him screwing a woman. He hadn't tried to hide it, just told me to hang out for a bit and he wouldn't take long. So yeah. I went back to Nidavellir having learned what I don't want from a relationship.

I come back to myself when Hearthstone turns on the overhead light.

How had he crossed the room without me noticing? What is wrong with me? How can I lose track of time, getting wrapped up in the past at the very moment Hearthstone returns my affection? He's my life partner, has been for four years and I have thought of him as such even if we only ever remained platonic friends. I'd been tied up in knots all day when he returned from Asgard, trying to figure out how to ask him to officially move in with me, and then Magnus and TJ came over to help, and then we were both tired and I never got the chance.

I smack my hand over my eyes as Hearth crawls back into bed, certain I just ruined everything.

Soft kisses at my temple, Hearthstone's gentle fingers stroking my beard.

I uncover my eyes, riddled with guilt and meet his.

 _I know. You have many thoughts. I caught you by surprise and didn't let you consider first. I'm sorry._

His eyes are round and earnest. His emotions heartfelt. It makes my heart melt, I'm so far gone in love with this guy.

"No." I shake my head and sit up, facing him. "You did nothing wrong." I gaze fondly at the breathtaking view of Hearth's bare chest, his pale skin, the slight green tinge of his veins under the surface, visible now the lights are on. He shivers and I mentally chide myself for being an idiot again and not noticing Hearth was cold. "Come on. Let's get back under the blankets. We'll talk and …" my cheeks burn with heat as I realize how suggestive it must sound to pause there "… get comfortable."

I feel stupid for acting embarrassed in front of Hearth, but the smirk he gives me tells me he finds my embarrassment both amusing and endearing. As he climbs under the blankets and fluffs his pillow, I justify to myself that it's worth being embarrassed if it distracts Hearthstone from thinking he'd mistaken my affection.

I adjust my pillows as well and settle back against them close enough to Hearthstone that our sides touch. I rub my leg against his under the sheet, taken with the sensation of how smooth he is compared to my hairy body. I'm not furry or anything of the sort, more like a typical burly human guy. As often as I complain about my mom, I am grateful for her genetics. I know it's vain, but I really do like the handsome aspect of being a Svartalf.

Hearth pokes me in the side.

"Ow. What?"

His forehead creases as he looks at me, cocking his head. He signs, _You are distracted more than normal. What's up with that?_

I'm not sure how to even answer. I don't think there is a way to do it without sounding stupid. I take a deep breath, my shoulders rising and then release it. I resign myself to sounding stupid. "I missed you. A lot." I can't even seem to get a complete sentence to come out without halting. I roll my eyes at myself and plunge on ahead anyway. "When you were in Asgard, I mean. You weren't even gone a whole week, and it turned everything – my thoughts, my feelings, my ability to sleep – on its head." I pause for breath, not quite meeting his eyes. "I realized how much you mean to me, even if we were only ever going to be friends. You know?"

He chews absently on his lower lip, nodding. It's adorable.

I clear my throat and tell myself to get a grip. "Like even that, right there." I touch his lip where his teeth make a dent and finally look directly into his eyes. "When you bite your lip, I think it's adorable. I failed you, Hearth." He shakes his head, but I touch his shoulder to stop him protesting. "No, listen a second. I did. I promised I wouldn't let my feelings for you get too deep – after we signed up with Mimir – remember? You said you couldn't have love. And, I know you already know it, but I fell for you anyway. I've been psyching myself out all week, trying to figure out how to ask you to officially move in with me, and not scare you off by being honest about how much I care, and then I couldn't do it before we fell asleep. And, waking up just now …" Hearthstone's eyes widen; I think he realizes how his sudden change of tune threw me off my game. I place my hand on top of his, stopping him from signing a little longer. "It surprised me, that's all. I wasn't sure if I was still asleep and having the best dream ever or if Odin had given you a personality transplant, or if you might be under some sort of magic influence, you know?"

He gently knocks my hand off of his, his teasing smirk – more pronounced and deliberate than usual – firmly back in place. _Like the time with the warthog?_

I lift my eyebrows high on my forehead. Hearthstone bringing that story up on his own is big. He usually avoids talking about it even though I've told him I understand and don't blame him.

 _I almost REALLY killed you, Blitzen,_ he signs, looking me directly in the eye. _I can finally let go of that pain._ He finishes with an exaggerated sweeping sign for 'free', his expression lighting up. _HUGE feeling to be free of it._

I grin. Hearthstone's new outlook seems to be contagious. I feel a lot lighter myself than before we talked. I rest my hand on his waist, a few inches from where the top of the blankets are bunched up. Stroking gently with my thumb, I ask him, "What changed? What happened to being an empty cup?"

He wrinkles his nose at me in distaste, but his smile lingers. I feel my stomach swoop as more gushy romantic feelings start bubbling up inside me. Hearthstone is flirting. He's making cute faces. Why am I melting into a puddle of sap from a stupid wrinkled nose? I let the thought go as Hearth begins signing his reply.

 _Odin. He didn't cast magic on me. We only talked. I have the magic now. No need to hold onto pain._ His hands slow toward the end, and stop after the sign for pain. He doesn't drop them, as if he's only pausing, considering how to phrase the rest. His cheeks grow more opaque, the green showing through more than usual. At first, I wonder if he may need to spend some time in his sunbed soon, and then I realize he's blushing. My face grows hot. I grip his waist harder, like I'm trying to ground myself.

Hearth begins to sign again. _He said the magic is mine. I was empty to receive it and I did. Now, it would be a shame to go through life with this new power and to only suffer. That experiencing love and connecting with others makes life worth living, suffering takes that away. I don't know why, but hearing it from the All-Father … It's like I got permission to stop holding on and POOF, I could let the pain go._ He taps his chest with his thumb, continuing. _It's still mine, the pain. I still have to deal with it, but I don't need to keep it inside all the time now. No more need to suffer. The magic won't leave. It needs the room the pain took up._

His eyelashes flutter again, his eyes softening, warming, drawing me into them. I almost ask him why he's looking at me like that when I realize I've been squeezing his butt. I forgot to pay attention to my hand and apparently it doesn't have the same hang ups to get over as my brain.

 _Blitzen …_ Hearthstone doesn't sign my name; he mouths it. I lean forward, pulled as if my name on his lips was a magic incantation. The tips of our noses brush, his breath puffing against my face. His scent, so raw, crisp, reminiscent of a forest glen, wraps me up in his pull. And then he places a chaste kiss on my lips and gently pushes me back to where I started. _Your turn,_ he signs, amusement alive in his dancing eyes. _You have more to say._

"Do I?" I'm not sure what else needs discussing. My dick throbs between my legs. My boxers feel uncomfortably tight. Lying here with Hearth is nothing like it had been with Miles. Hearthstone slows _me_ down before I get too far ahead of myself and start freaking out. He's reading me like a book, like a story he knows by heart and can recite from without checking the page. I've accused Hearth of being a romantic in the past, and right now, I know that the truth has always been that I am the one with a romantic nature. I recall my thoughts: Miles and romance and how different it is with Hearth … I clear my throat. "Yeah. I do have more to say. It might kill the mood, but I think I should share it with you, get it off my chest."

Hearthstone nods, snuggling into his pillow and pulling the blankets up over his shoulder. I start to pull my hand away from his butt, but he frowns at me, and glances pointedly back down until I put it back. Propped up on my elbow, I distract myself from my discomfort of what I'm about to say by rubbing Hearthstone from his butt to his hip, back and forth, tracing patterns and figure eights over the blanket.

"Well, you know I've been with a guy before … like sexually?" We've never explicitly had this conversation, but I know Hearth picks up a lot more than most people think. He reads between the words without even trying.

He nods once, thankfully not betraying any hint of judgement. I wet my lips, hating this conversation already.

"Err, yeah. So, it was not a real satisfying experience."

Hearthstone frowns, though the way he creases his forehead, the way his eyebrows furrow yet his eyes stay soft makes me feel more comfortable sharing the story with him than I thought it would.

"It was just messed up all over," I begin, laying the whole messy affair out for him. I don't even end up censoring myself like I always assumed I would when, in the past, I'd thought about confessing my sexual experiences to Hearthstone. He's an excellent listener and doesn't interrupt, instead, holding my eye contact, and only signing to encourage me to go on at my own pace when I struggle through the painful moments and reach the end.

"That was four years ago, a stupid mistake."

It surprises me how easily the story came out, even the heart-crushing embarrassment I'd thought I'd take to my grave. Hearthstone's eyes stay on mine. He hadn't cringed or curled his lips in disgust. I don't feel judged. More surprising is the shadow of a smile ghosting his lips.

He shifts, pushing the blankets down to free his arms. _And then you immediately found me. And you saved me._

Chuckling under my breath, I shift onto my back before my arm falls asleep. Tingles chase up and down my fingers as I flex to get the blood circulating in my hand. Hearthstone rolls onto his stomach, and props himself up on his forearms. The overhead light illuminates the back of his head, his blond hair giving him a halo effect.

"Actually, _you_ were the one who immediately popped out of thin air and landed on top of me, breaking my nose. But yeah … then I saved you."

His warm breath puffs against the back of my arm, soft as a sigh – my skin, breaking out in goosebumps, my nerves suddenly awake and alert. His eyes change, his focus on mine growing more sharp. I can feel my pulse thudding in my throat, speeding up.

Holding himself up on his elbows, Hearth signs, _Blitzen. I want to touch you. It's okay?_ His expression remains sharp until the end, when he raises an eyebrow, seeking permission.

I can only nod, my heart expanding in my chest, a mix of heat and shivers racing through my nerves. It's like a dream come to life, Hearthstone wanting me, being forthright in telling me so. And reality blasts the dream image apart with how it turns the tables. In my fantasies, I was the one taking charge, making the first moves. In actuality, Hearthstone melts me into a puddle of sappy stupidity with a single sign.

He smiles, crawling over me. His naked body shining as if it was made of light, hovering above me, long legs boxing my hips, so lithe and skinny yet thrumming with power. My breathing stutters as his aroused dick sways between his thighs before he lowers his groin to mine. The heat between us ramps up as our bodies press together, Hearthstone's eyes on mine carefully measuring my responses as he tucks his arms against my sides. Flying high, I meet his gaze, my hands caressing up and down the sides of his waist. I give the smallest nod, his eyes lighting up, and then he steals my breath all over again, drawing me in with his lips.

Lips and tongues meeting and gliding, soft sighs and moans that start in the chest, I'm drunk on how much I love this elf. He shifts, holding himself up on his fists, and moving his kisses along the line of my jaw. My chest and stomach tingle as the cool air of the room hits my sweat-dampened body hair.

It's all I can do to stay in my body, my soul so light it's liable to fly away. And then Hearthstone brings me back to the present, kissing down my neck, nuzzling the soft hair on my chest before tonguing my nipple.

"Oh!"

He glances up at me, teasing my nipple over and over with long licks and jabs with his tongue, his eyes glazed and half-lidded: a real life sex imp. I run my fingers through his sleep-mussed hair, grinning like an idiot as he worships my chest.

It catches me off-guard when his hips begin to grind, his dick rubbing hard against the crease of my thigh. I move my hand to adjust my painfully tight boxers. They need to go.

Hearthstone pulls back, catching sight of my hand. He grips each side of my waistband, eyes flicking to mine. I get his drift and lift my hips as he drags my boxers down. My heart flutters as he pauses, staring at my dick, the elastic waistband pushing up under my balls. It's unnerving, not knowing if the pause is because he likes what he sees or if I'm freaking him out.

Thankfully, it only lasts a few more seconds. He grins up at me, then pulls my boxers all the way off. He climbs back on top of my legs, looming above me on his arms. As he crawls back up my body, he kisses my dick and licks the tip, just about making me lose it right there.

I find his lips again, gasping into his mouth as his hips start rolling again.

 _This is real right now,_ I tell myself. _Hearthstone is dragging his dick over my body, bumping against mine and getting off on it._

He pants into my mouth, our lips barely brushing, spread wide open, but the stimulation lower down is so good, so distracting, we forget how to kiss. I run my hands over the hard ridges of Hearthstone's back, down along his spine and finally grip his butt with both hands, holding on. I'm not trying to guide him, I just need to touch. He drops his face against my collarbone, breaths huffing hot against my skin as he holds onto my sides with his arms, pressing our chests tightly together, humping hard with his hips.

I lift my chin, crying out at the slide of Hearth's abs against my dick. So much smooth skin, tight muscles, my sensitive tip dribbling, so desperate to come. _Hearthstone, my best friend, my confidante … He's doing this to me, with me. This could be our forever._

Hearth ruts faster, our dicks slipping, lubed with sweat and precome. He kisses my neck, my jaw, moaning out loud against my beard and setting my heart soaring. I hug him, holding onto his back, his muscles working under my palms as our chests make squelching sounds. I'm thankful he can't hear them, because in his place, I would have lost focus. I don't lose focus under his attention, not when every motion and sound brings us closer to the edge.

He cries out, a hoarse gasp I could easily mistake for pain, but the warmth spreading between our bodies, dripping down my sides, easing our gliding tells me it's definitely not pain. I smile as his breaths turn into shuddering pants, not even worried that I haven't come yet. I'm too enamored with kissing this elf silly. I find his lips and tease my way inside his mouth with my tongue, pouring my all into him, giving him everything.

He kisses back sloppily, too blissed out to aim well, and then picks back up rutting against me. My impending climax is back to fever pitch in the space of a second, my heart racing as he misjudges a thrust, and his dick slips down under my balls. Instead of pulling away and trying to right it, he bumps softer, waking all the secret nerves around my asshole.

I dig the pads of my fingers into his back, holding on for dear life as my orgasm crashes over me, dragging my ability to see – to think – along with it.

I come back to myself a moment later, my limbs heavy and boneless, not from exhaustion but intense satisfaction. I lose myself in Hearth's gentle kisses, humming my pleasure through my lips, my fingers releasing their death grip on his back.

The kiss ends naturally, Hearth moving off of me and onto his side, still draped over half of my body. His feet tangle with my feet, and the simple caress of toes and ankles feels more intimate than any of my past experiences with Miles.

I meet his gaze, his sideways smile, one eyebrow raised.

"What's funny?"

His eyes seem to dance as he signs at me with one hand. _You. Beautiful. Very sensitive asshole._

I can't keep the bark of laughter from breaking free, chuckling while I fail to fake offense. Acting offended takes a lot of energy. Instead, as my laughter ends, I stroke the side of his face, keeping my expression serious. "I think you should move in with me. My sensitive asshole would appreciate more frequent attention."

The bedroom door closes, as Hearthstone moves in to kiss me again, and I hear Magnus in the next room, his voice muffled.

"Holy shit,TJ. They totally went there."

I wrap my tongue around Hearthstone's and pretend the interruption didn't happen. Nothing can ruin Hearth's answer for me, his hand signing _I love you_ against my chest. Together, Hearthstone and I have made a home for life.


End file.
